Living a Story

"All the darkness in the world cannot drown out the light of a single match."

Healing Takes Time

I am so hard on myself.  Always pushing myself to work harder and try harder.  Thinking I should be farther along than I am.  Thinking I should have everything figured out by now and angry at myself that I don’t.  Thinking my recovery should be perfect.  Thinking I should never mess up and feeling like a failure when I do.  I often believe that the effort I put into recovery is directly correlated with my progress.  I forget that there are outside factors.  I forget that there are deep wounds and thought patterns that have been ingrained in me for most of my life.  I forget that there is a child inside me who is terrified and clinging to the things that once helped her survive.  I forget that sometimes, no matter how hard I try, it could take a while to work through these things.  I forget that effort is not directly correlated with healing.  Healing takes time.  Healing is a process.  Healing can be slow.  You cannot force yourself to heal.  I cannot speed up the process by trying harder.  Sometimes this frustrates me so much.  I seem to think I can control the speed at which I heal and when it is happening slower than I would like I blame myself.  Get angry at myself.

I wonder if it is ok that I am where I am.  I wonder if it is ok that I am not further along than I would like.  I wonder if it is ok that I do not have everything figured out.  I wonder if I can start to give myself grace and compassion rather than push myself so hard.  I am in recovery.  I have gotten through so much.  Come so far.  Overcome things I never thought I would be able to overcome.  Do I have more to go?  Yes.  Do I have more to work through?  Yes.  Do I still trip and fall and land flat on my face?  Yes.  But maybe it’s ok.  Maybe it’s ok to trip and fall and be confused and unsure.  Maybe it’s ok to even question if I really want recovery sometimes.  Maybe it’s ok to be afraid.

This is where I am right now.  Wishing I was further along and afraid of being further along at the same time.  Wishing I had everything figured out.  Wondering if it’s maybe ok that I don’t.  Feeling like I need to push myself harder.  Also wanting to sit down and rest for a while.  This is where I am right now.  And I think that, maybe, it’s ok.

I am in the Process

I am in the process of figuring out who I am.  I am in the process of reconnecting to myself.  When I was younger I was in survival mode.  I shut down, disconnected from myself, and just focused on getting through.  I have made it through.  I am adult now.  I have support now.  I am not alone.  And I feel like for the first time I have the space to discover who I am.  I have the space to discover what I like to do and I what I don’t like to do.  Who I want to be around and who I don’t want to be around.  For the first time, I have the space to be myself.  And the space to figure out what it looks like to be myself.

You see, I grew up in the spotlight.  I am the daughter of a pastor and I grew up with all eyes on me.  I was expected to act a certain way.  To think in a certain way and to have certain opinions and answers.  I was expected to be someone I wasn’t.  But I played the part.  I played the part to survive.  I perfected it actually.  Fooled everyone.  When I tell people now that I grew up feeling alone, isolated, and like no one knew me I am sometimes asked why I didn’t just let people know me.  I am sometimes asked since I felt so alone why I didn’t just let people in.  Why I didn’t tell anyone what I was really feeling.  It’s because I was trying to survive.  It’s because it wasn’t ok for the daughter of the pastor to be loud and inquisitive and confused and unsure.  They say it would have been ok.  They say I could have been myself.  But who I am does not fit the mold of who they wanted me to be.  Who they expected me to be.  And I knew that.  So I hid my true self.

Now that I am out of that atmosphere and environment I have the space to discover who I am.  I have the space to fall and mess up and for it to be ok.  I have the space to be confused and unsure and angry and inquisitive and to still be accepted.  This space is healing.  This acceptance is healing.  Who am I?  I am not entirely sure yet.  I am still figuring it out.  But I am learning that it is ok not to be perfect.  It is ok to mess up.  It is ok to trip and fall.  It is ok not to be who everyone wants me to be.  Is it scary?  Yes.  It is scary to put down my façade and the protective walls in my heart that helped me survive.  It is scary to let people into the broken, vulnerable parts of me.  It is scary, but it is healing.  It is saving me.  I am learning that there are people who want to know that part of me.  There are people who accept that part of me.  There are people who love that part of me.  Who am I?  I am still figuring that out.  But I have a place now where it is safe to figure that out.  Where there are people who are loving me through it.  I have a place now where I am accepted in my brokenness and imperfection.